


The Time Starts Again

by devilbunny



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Gen, Too Many Ideas, have to translate them, in my head it's so many small stories, new chapters will follow pretty soon, no idea how long it's gonna be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 20:31:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 12,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4680365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilbunny/pseuds/devilbunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the battle of the five armies the restoration of Erebor has begun. But soon new dangers and complications start to threaten the company in the mountain because elves and dwarfes as neighbours aren't a good combination. And what the hell is wrong with Thorin... again?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

One

Kíli

“Watch out! “ Dwalin screamed as one big column fell over. Kíli coughed as he wiped his eyes free from the dust and walked over to his companion. “What is this all about? “He asked. “We are supposed to rebuild the kingdom not destroying it even further!”  
“Just look at those columns!” the older dwarf answered harshly and kicked it. “Completely covered in scratches caused by Smaug’s claws!” He turned around. “Like everything else here! Erebor is supposed to rise in its old greatness! For this we have to wipe out every trace of the rather unpleasant past! “Kíli understood but… “That might take a while.” he sighted.  
“That doesn’t matter.” Bofur said as he passed them by pulling a big barrow with stones on it. “Now we have got all the time of the world.” He smiled.  
“Still you shouldn’t waste it!” Glóin called from across the hall where he stood in the great hole that used to be the main gate. “And now come here! The wind is cold and the gate won’t repair itself on its own!” Bofur took a deep breath, winked at Kíli and started to move once again.  
Five days had passed since the battle of the five armies. Together with Daín’s people and the eagles the humans, the company of Thorin Oakenshield and the Elves had succeeded in taking down the Orcs. The battle had been hard and brutal but they had survived even though it had been quite a tough battle for him and Fíli, Kíli had to admit. Only because the Elves had been there he and his brother were now able to stand in the great halls of their forefathers. But they had yet to regain their former beauty. Smaug had destroyed the mountain in a terrible manner and time also had done no good to the kingdom under the mountain. Countless timeworn columns had to be restored, the mines were partly collapsed and they would have to empty the treasuries in order to renovate them. The worst were the bodies. Although Smaug had feasted on the dwarves beyond counting, many had been able to flee and had hidden until they died a slow and cruel death. The western chambers of the guards remembered of a cemetery just as the connection tunnels between the forges and the pantries. It would cost much time and many nerves to salvage all the bodies and bury them properly.  
“Kíli! Little help here! “Dwalin waved him over and gestured him towards one of the great columns. Together they rolled it to Bombur who was already busy with smashing others. Like this they could transport the pieces easier. When Kíli started to push the column with all his strength a hot, siring pain shot through his side but he tried to ignore it. It would still take a lot of time for him to recover properly from his injuries. That was no excuse. Erebor had to be restored. As he straightened back up his hand flickered to his wound. Dwalin noticed. “Boy, why don’t you say anything? Durin help me, recover, you thickheaded, little brat! “  
“I am fine. “ Kíli growled but as he laid his hand on his bandage it felt moist. He hit it quickly. “We have to take care of our home. “  
“Of which you won’t see much when you refuse to listen!” He gestured to the upper floors in which the royal chambers had been. “Go see Óin. He should change your bandage.”  
“But…”  
“Now! I won’t say it twice! “  
Kíli set off but not without shooting an angry look towards Dwalin. He, Kíli, was his prince. He dared he talk to him like that? He lacked all respect! But deep down Kíli new that he wasn’t angry because of Dwalin’s behavior. The dwarf was like an uncle to him, he didn’t want to be respected by him and Kíli never felt like a prince anyway. No, his bad temper had a different reason and his companions knew that.  
He walked along the long tunnel that had survived the attack of the dragon. Maybe because it was located above the treasuries. On his right hung a huge tapestry that showed the royal family. Kíli saw Thrór, his great grandfather, who had fallen victim to the pale orc. Beneath him was Thráin, the grandfather Kíli had never been able to get to know because Thrórs death had driven him mad. It was said that he was dead himself, fallen somewhere near the borders of Mordor.  
Thráin has had three children. The eldest was Kíli’s uncle, Thorin Oakenshield, who had been like a father to him. Frerin, the middle one, fell in the battle of Azanulbizar, in which also Thrór lost his life. Dís, the youngest of the siblings, was Fíli’s and Kíli’s mother. His heart skipped a beat as he thought of her. This morning they had sent Nori and Ori to the Ered Luin in order to spread the news: Erebor was reclaimed! Kíli was sure that Dís would die to see her brother and sons alive and would set off immediately. He was looking forward to see her. During their long and hard journey Kíli had thought more than once that he might have seen his mother for the last time as he followed his brother and uncle out of the village. Of course he wouldn’t tell her that. She had been worried enough already. And it was not like there hadn’t been any reason not to…  
“Kíli! “ A door had opened up in front of him. Balin stuck his head out and called him again silently. “Kíli!”  
Oh, Mahâl! Did something happen? Kíli wanted to haste forward but a pain above his hip reminded him that that was maybe not the brightest idea. Balin saw how his face twisted and how he touched his bandage. He said: “Óin is in here. He will take care of you.”  
“Is it Kíli?” he could hear Óin’s voice ask out of the room. “Yes” he answered and came in. He could get a glimpse of the bed that hadn’t changed at all in the last five days when Óin’s weathered face came in view. “That was about time!” he scolded. “Haven’t I told you that I have to check on your wound every hour? By Mahâl and Ivon, where have you been?”  
“I believe our young prince participated in the restoration works in the lower halls.” Balin said as Kíli didn’t open his mouth.  
“Laes!” Óin shouted angrily. “What are you thinking? Let me see that!“ Roughly he pushed Kíli on a chair and practically ripped his clothes off. Kíli’s chest was covered in bruised and cuts but Óin’s focus lay on the bandage that wrapped around his waist. It had a light red color in the left side. “Do you see that? I knew it!” Mumbling angrily he grabbed a few tinctures. “There was a reason why I had forbidden hard work!” He took off the bandage. “What did you do down there?”  
“Dwalin and I rolled a column to Bombur.” He admitted pouting.  
“You did what? A stone column? Only you two?“  
“It didn’t feel very heavy to me.” Kíli murmured. That was a lie. Óin laughed joyless. “Your wound tells a different story, lad! It has opened up on the one side. I will have to disinfect it.” He already had poured the fluid from the bottle on a cloth and pressed it on the wound. Kíli jolted back and took a sharp breath. “Ouch!”  
“Your own fault” Óin growled as he attached a new bandage. Kíli wriggled around on his chair. “Not so tight!” Warning Óin raised his index finger. “I am the healer here, boy! And as such I say“ He threw Kíli’s clothes at him. “No physical work for the next two weeks! We shall see how it looks then.”  
“What?” Kíli’s eyes were widened in shock. “No, that can’t be! I have to help!”  
“You only have to recover!” the old dwarf hissed. “First the poisoned morgul arrow and then the battle! You nearly died twice these days! Your body too has its limits!”  
“But…” Kíli wanted to protest as another voice cut through the room: “Drop it, Kíli. There will be enough work left in two weeks, I am damn sure about that.” Fíli sat across the room in a corner. Kíli hadn’t noticed him before. Slowly he approached him. “Are you well, brother?” He got a small smile in return and Fíli pressed his hand which lay on his shoulder. “Of course I am.” He sighted. „Everything will be alright. “  
“And how is…” His voice cracked. Kíli cleared his throat. “How is he?”  
“No change.” Fíli sounded frustrated. Kíli felt his throat tighten as he lowered his eyes on Thorin who lay in the bed. Since five days, since the battle was over, he hadn’t awoken. He was bruised everywhere, the cuts were beyond count and Óin tented his more severe injuries daily. The elves had saved Fíli and Kíli and they had been told that they also had made sure that Thorin wouldn’t die. But since Kíli had awoken three days ago nothing had happened. Nobody knew what was wrong with his uncle. They could feed him soup and he would also swallow some water. But besides a silent breathing nothing indicated that Thorin Oakenshield was still alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> laes = something like: stupid boy


	2. Chapter 2

Two

Kíli

“Kíli, Balin, I have to talk to you.” Fíli looked at Óin apologetically. “Would you mind to leave us alone for a short time?”  
“Of course not.“ He nodded. “As long as you keep an eye on your brother.”  
“Hey!”  
Fíli nodded grinning. “You have my word.”  
With the hint of a smile Óin closed the door behind him. Fíli kept silent until Kíli got himself a chair and leaned over to his brother. Balin did the same. “What is on your mind, brother dear?” Kíli asked softly. Fíli lifted his head. He looked tired. “Bard was here this morning.”  
“And what did he want?” Balin carefully asked. Fíli removed his long blond hair from his face. “He told me there will be a meeting later this day.”  
“Who will be there?”  
“Dáin with a few of his people, Bard himself who will represent the men from Dale, the master of Esgaroth and” He clenched his teeth. “Thranduil.”  
“And what do they want?” Kíli asked who didn’t like this constellation of participants at all.  
“They wanted to know how things are continuing now. But most of all” He looks at Balin seeking help. “do they want to know who will be king under the mountain.”  
“What?” Kíli was utterly confused. „That’s out of question, isn’t it?“  
“I fear it indeed isn’t.” Balin sighted. When Kíli wanted to give a furious answer he shushed him and pointed at Thorin. “Look at your uncle.” he demanded. “He can’t rule a kingdom like this. We don’t even know what’s wrong with him. All that we can do is hoping that he will wake up. And we will do that until the end.“ He added as he saw Kíli’s fear stricken face. “We won’t give him up, laddie!” He said determined. “But until he is better somebody has to take his place.” He looked at Fíli who had his face burried in his hands. “I can’t do that.” He whispered. He looked at Kíli who noticed how scared his brother was. “I can’t replace Thorin! It is way too early for me to sit on this throne!” He looked at his feet. “And everybody else knows this too. This gathering will be my execution.”  
“Fíli…” As Kíli wanted to lay his hand on his shoulder, his brother jumped to his feet and paced through the room. “We have to show that we are a strong volk with an even stronger leader!” he shouted. “Otherwise we will never be able to live with the other kingdoms in peace! As soon as they will sense even the faintest trace of weakness, they will tear us to shreds! They will take Erebor from us again!” Fíli froze and clenched his shaking fists. “Tell me, how am I supposed to live up to those expectations alone?”  
“You don’t.” Kíli had gotten up and looked his brother in the eyes. “You won’t have to face our foes, friends, whatever they are, on your own! I will come with you!”  
“Kíli, that’s not possible.” Fíli had taken a few steps back and was shaking his head.  
“Why not?” His brother wanted to know. “You’re not crowned and I am just as much of an heir than you are! It is my birthright to decide the future of my kingdom!” He took the hand of the blond dwarf. “Fíli, we never had any quarrels about the throne. I will always be at your side, you know that! You’re afraid of the task that lies ahead you? Alright, we’re going to face it together! You are right, we shan’t show any weakness and together we won’t!” He smiled warmly. “I will support you, brother, no matter with what. There is nothing that we can’t do together!“  
In Fíli’s eyes was insecurity. “Balin?”  
The old dwarf patted his long white beard. “I don’t think there will be great problems if you can proof yourself at the very beginning. You will have to deal with several attacks. Only of verbal nature.” He added quickly as he saw Kíli’s look. “But not less dangerous.”  
“They shall come, we are ready!” Kíli grinned self-confided at his brother. Balin stood up and laid his hands on the shoulders of the younger dwarfs. “We can indeed feel lucky to have you as our future kings.” His smile was warm. “What can possibly happen to us with such great princes?”  
“Surely nothing as long as they are lead by the wisest members of the company.” Fíli answered. He looked at both of them. “I am glad to know that you are at my side. Both of you.“ His eyes wanders off to Thorin. “Like this we can easily wait until uncle wakes up. And he will.”  
“He would be so proud of the two of you.” Balin assured them. “But maybe he can hear us. Then he already is.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a bit shorter but I felt like I should cut here. It was just like the perfect opportunity.


	3. Chapter 3

3

Kíli

“Oh, well, look who we’ve got here.” Thranduil snarled when Fíli and Kíli entered the room. “Is the Erebor ruled by two kings now? There might be a bit of a conflict concerning the interests now, wouldn’t there be?”  
“Indeed.” The master of Lake Town quickly agreed. He always wanted to gain and keep the compassion of the elven king. “This is wrong, I would say!”  
Fíli answered his look coolly. “You’re wrong.” His voice was cold as ice. “My brother and I are standing here in front of you as the princes of Erebor.” He looked everybody in the eye. “And we will be treated as such. As princes of one of the greatest kingdoms Middle Earth has ever seen! We claim the respect that’s due to us by actions from our fathers and the fathers of their forefathers!”  
“This is of course your right.” Bard had bowed his head in a greeting manner. “But, please, allow me the question: Where is Thorin Oakenshield, King under the mountain?”  
“He is occupied otherwise.” Kíli simply said.  
“Oh, is he?” Thranduil lifted an eyebrow. “What could possibly more important than this gathering for the sake of freedom?  
“I don’t think that this is any of your business.” Kíli all but growled. Fíli laid secretly a hand on his arm.  
“Îdh, hên, would be a virtue that would suit you perfectly.”  
“Oh, I think that I am calm enough, âr en taur.” He had once learned Sindarin, the language of the elves. Still it made him sick to call Thranduil the king of the forest. It was way too respectful for his liking but he had to do it for the sake of their plan.  
“Maybe we should start with offering a seat to the two young princes.” Dáin said and gestured towards two free seats at the round stone table. Under the judging eyes of the other they sat down. Everyone was eyeing each other suspiciously and estimated their possibilities to make as much out of the meeting as possible. Finally Bard got up. “Well, I think, as the one whose invitation you all have followed, it is my privilege to officially inaugurate this gathering and to welcome every single one of you.” He looked at the people individually. “We have many things to talk about and I hope that we will find just as many solutions.”  
“Alright. First things first.” Thranduil’s stretched voice cut through the room. “I would love to discuss the matter of my share of the treasure with the two greatly honored princes.” He smiled thinly.  
“Yes, that would also be my request! “ The master bent over the table with his big paunch covering an impressive amount of the surface. He pointed his fat finger at Fíli. “I was also promised a share! “  
Kíli felt disgust boiling inside him. Thorin had been right after all. Everyone was just after their gold! What did they even think? There are other things – more important ones! But before he could get up and say something, Fíli pressed his shoulder firmly. He knew what was going on in his little brother. Of course he felt exactly the same but luckily he had been prepared to deal with this comments and behavior. That’s why he turned to the master and said calmly: “That is right and you shall get it. We stand up to our word. You on the other hand” He turned towards the elven king. “I can’t remember any agreement that was made. “ He had to suppress a smirk. “Or at least none that would have been successful.”  
Thranduil wrinkled his perfect forehead. “Well, in this case I insist in a compensation for the behavior of Thorin Oakenshield in my kingdom.”  
Fíli acted dumb. “I don’t know what you mean.” He said with a straight face.  
Thranduil got angry. “Don’t tease me, enfeng! You know what happened! You king has insulted me and I will not accept that!”  
Fíli smiled at him apological though he got sick. “I can only confirm things I have seen myself. I know that Thorin was invited to an appointment to your throne room but I really don’t know what happened there. “  
“The lad has a point.” Dáin said grinning. He was obviously delighted by the way his young great cousin was playing the king. Dwarfs and elves were just not meant to get along. Of course there were exceptions...  
“My captain of the guard saved the life of your brother!” Thranduil practically spit into Fíli’s face. Kíli was beyond himself. Even this should be an argument in Thranduil’s favor? This elf was playing every card he could the win this struggle for power. Still he forced himself to calm down. They had expected problems like this. That had been the reason for him to join Fíli in the first place. Kíli took a deep breath. “Yes, she did. But Tauriel didn’t act on your word but on her own actions. And that is why I would like to thank her. And only her.” He glanced at Thranduil challenging. “Where is she? Rotting in the cells of the Woodland Realm?”  
Thranduil got up, glancing at Kíli furiously. “How dare you, you little sc-…”  
“Ach, mellon!” Suddenly another voice echoed through the room. “Will you really not appreciate the good acts of one of your people? Elves help. It is good that the elves of Mirkwood haven’t forgotten this in their isolation. Don’t let our young friend provoke you when it was only the temper of the youth speaking. Or do you have felt guilty for one moment?”  
Everyone shot around and saw another elf standing in the entrance. Calmly and relaxed he looked around. “What an interesting council.” He stated. Their eyes crossed. “Mellon.” He repeated the greeting stiffly. “It surely is a long journey from Rivendell. What did you make to attend it? “  
“I was sent word that the Lonely Mountain was taken back. Since I wasn’t completely uninvolved in this adventure I felt like I should congratulate the brave warriors.” Mister Elrond looked around. “Where is Thorin Oakenshield, Fíli, son of Dís?”  
Still confused by the sudden appearance of the elf Fíli simply answered: “He is busy.”  
Elrond nodded. “Very well. I shall accompany you later into the Erebor if I am allowed to. “Since Fíli didn’t answer, Kíli said: “You helped us to take back our home.” He managed an honest smile. “You are always welcome.”  
“Thank you, Kíli, prince of the Lonely Mountain.”  
“Wait! Wait!” The master had gotten up. “What about my money? My town got destroyed! Somebody has to pay me!” Fíli and Kíli grinned at each other. They had been waiting for this moment. “You know” Fíli pouted. „Since we are only the princes we can’t just manage the finances on our own. The treasure belongs to our uncle after all.”  
“What?!” The master seemed to swell like a bullfrog. His face turned purple and you could see a vein pumping on his forehead.  
“But” Kíli hurried to continue before the man would do something he might regret later, “a whole seventh of the gold belongs to us – which is still enough to rebuild the town fifty times. So do not worry: The princes of Erebor will pay Thorin Oakenshield’s dept.” The master muttered something under his breath but sat down again.  
“The same is set for Dale.” Fíli told Bard. “We will provide you with the resources to rebuild it.” He smiled. “You will be the Lord of a magnificent city.”  
Bard smiled back. “And you will become a fantastic king one day.” And with this he bowed down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry that I didn't upload in a while but I was really busy with school stuff ^_^
> 
> Îdh = calmness  
> hên = boy  
> âr en taur = king of the forest  
> ach = but  
> mellon = (my) friend


	4. Chapter 4

Four

Saruman

“You failed!” the merciless voice echoed deafening through Saruman’s mind who was covering in the halls of Isengard. He seemed to burn from the inside and he wailed around in agony. Yes, Sauron was angry and how dangerous this was Saruman could only guess. “You were supposed to wipe out the Line of Durin with the help of Azog! And what did you manage? NOTHING!” A wave of hot anger washed over the wizard. He screamed. “Now Azog is dead who was one of my best legionaries! Just as Bolg who was just as cruel as his father! The army is defeated and without a leader! What can you say to this?!”  
“I am sorry, Master!” Saruman squealed. “I will do anything! I will…“ He stopped and thought furiously. “I will kill the king and his heirs! Believe me, this time everything will go just fine! I promise!” He sobbed. “I promise you, Master! “  
“I hope so. For your own sake.”


	5. Chapter 5

Five

Kíli

“And he has been like this for five days now?” Elrond bent down to get a better look on Thorin. The face of the king didn’t move and was as still as the calm ocean. Óin only glowered at the elf standing at Thorin’s bedside but Balin nodded. “Yes, he hasn’t awoken or moved at all.” Wrinkling his forehead Elrond got up. “Even if he was conscious, he still would not be able to move.” His expression was serious. “He has suffered severe injuries.”   
“But he is alive, isn’t he!” Kíli said more harshly than he had wanted to. The subtext was: He will recover, won’t he?!  
The elven king was smiling softly. “You are right, gwain caun. Your uncle is strong. The fact that he is still breathing alone shows that he isn’t willing to give up by now.”  
“I thank Mahâl every day.” Óin murmured from the side.  
“Can you help him?” Fíli had raised his eyes hopeful at the elf. “Can you wake him up?” Elrond answered his look mildly. “I wish I could, my young dwarven friend.” He sighted. “But I don’t know what’s wrong with him. Not that he would be fine, judging from his corporal state but he should be at least conscious.” He turned to Óin. “Have you tried Athelas?”  
“You mean kings foil?” The healer sneered, extremely stressing the non-elvish word. “Was the first that came to my mind. It had also healed Kíli from his poisoning he had received from a Morgul-Arrow. But Thorin - no reaction.”  
“We can rule out normal orc-poison then.” Lord Elrond said like he was talking to himself. “Who was at his side during the battle?”   
“All of us, of course!” Óin yelled furious. “We’re not hiding when our king is going to battle!”  
“You misunderstood me, master dwarf.” Elrond said conciliatorily. “I meant to ask who has been standing next to him while you were fighting.”  
“Us” Fíli said. He stood next to Kíli. “My brother and me. And Dwalin, of course.”  
“Strong family bonds.” The elf nodded appreciating. “That’s always important and even more in times like these. Did you see anything? Something unusual during the battle?”  
Suddenly Fíli started to laugh a very cold laugh. “Something unusual during the battle?” He repeated. He was sneering and sniggering at the same time. Kíli felt a shiver run down his spine. “No, what should there have been?” Fíli’s voice was dripping with irony and his mouth was shaped into a cynic grin. “There was only blood. Blood everywhere. Blood, cries and flying limbs. You couldn’t distinguish friend from foe. After every hit you could only hope that you hadn’t just decapitated your best friend. The mud made walking nearly impossible but whom once fell was lost anyway. The orcs were everywhere and killed everything that came in their way with their horrifying weapons. As we thought it was finally over, a new wave of these beasts branded over us. And I won’t even start about the trolls. So tell me, Lord Elrond: Does anything of this sound unusual to you?” The cynicism had gone. Fíli’s face was bitter and hard. As Kíli looked his brother in the eyes which had always shone like deep mountain lakes, he now spotted such a coldness and brokenness that he couldn’t breathe for a moment. When Fíli turned around making an ugly sound and stormed out of the room nobody moved for a brief moment. Then Kíli gained back control over his legs and ran after his big brother. “Fíli! FÍLI!”  
Elrond sadly shook his head. “War. Nobody is ever ready for it and young souls tend to break.”  
No one in the room had noticed how Thorin’s face had briefly twisted in a pained mask as his nephew had started screaming. Now the elf turned back to Thorin and saw the face of the king as expressionless as ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that this progressing so slowly... :( nobody told me A-levels would be THIS hard...


	6. Chapter 6

Six

Bilbo

Bilbo nearly fell over as Fíli ran into him. “Fíli, what …?” he stuttered as he tried to regain his balance. Then he turned around quickly but he only saw the tuck of Fíli’s coat disappear behind the next corner. He barely had time to be baffled because the next dwarf bumped into him. “Bilbo!” Kíli gasped and pressed a hand to his side. Bilbo saw the bandages under his clothes. “Did you see Fíli?”  
“Yes, but he didn’t look like he would fancy company right now.”  
“I don’t give a damn about what he fancies.” The brunet growled and was about to keep running after his brother as Bilbo grabbed him by his arm. “Kíli…”  
“WHAT?!” he snapped at him but looked shocked the next moment. “Forgive me, master burglar. I shouldn’t treat you like this.” He sighted deeply and pulled both of his hands across his face. A gesture of exhaustion. “It shouldn’t be like this.” He whispered silently.   
It hurt Bilbo to see Kíli like this. He used to be such a cheerful and happy young dwarf. “Thorin isn’t geeing better yet?” Kíli swallowed and shook his head. Bilbo closed his burning eyes. Why couldn’t everything be alright by now? The orcs were driven away and the conflict with their neighbors banned. So why couldn’t Thorin just wake up? That stupid, thick-headed dwarf ruined their happy end!  
Wait… their neighbors? What was he thinking?! The Erebor wasn’t his home! The shire was! Hadn’t he wished himself back into his armchair in Bag End countless times during their journey? He was free to go, he had fulfilled his duty in the company of Thorin Oakenshield. So, why did he not want to?  
It may be because my Baggins-manners forbid me to leave without saying “Good Bye” to everyone. And as long as Thorin isn’t waking up, this is quite impossible – So I have to stay.  
What would happen when the king regained consciousness Bilbo didn’t want to think about.


	7. Chapter 7

Seven

Kíli

“Finally, there you are!” Kíli sat down on the floor next to his brother. They were in one of the countless abandoned halls beneath the Erebor. Fíli obviously hadn’t payed attention to the direction he had chosen for his escape. Now he was sitting there and absently patted his bandage that covered his left shoulder. That was where Azog’s blade has pierced him. The orc had nearly succeeded in killing him but Bilbo had appeared out of nowhere and had thrown a stone. A hobbit’s aim never fails and so Azog’s hand had been cast to the side as he was about to ram his sword through the abdomen of Fíli. It had hit his shoulder instead. Óin had fought for hours but in the end he had been able to save Fíli’s arm. The blade hadn’t been poisoned. This had been a real relieve but the pain remained and always remembered Fíli of how close he had been to die.  
It was the same with Kíli’s side.  
Azog’s son Bolg had gotten him there. Blinded by hate and panic Kíli had stormed forward in order to save his brother. It had been impossible but he hadn’t cared about that. But before Kíli had reached his brother, Tauriel and Legolas had appeared from the other side of the mountain and had begun to fight the orcs. Azog had jumped down his plateau and had started to engage Thorin in a fight to death. Legolas had taken the unconscious Fíli out of danger. Tauriel had driven Bolg down the stairs, towards Kíli. The dwarf hadn’t hesitated and had joined in. Bolg had been a tough opponent whose only aim had been to kill them all. The orc had sacrificed his own arm in order to block a blow from Tauriel and had swung his deadly blade at Kíli at the same time. This had taken Kíli aback and he hadn’t been able to block the sword. But Tauriel’s chop had been harder than Bolg had thought and he had lost his balance – The sword hadn’t caused deadly damage. Kíli had dropped his own weapon and had gripped at Bolg’s arm firmly which was holding the sword that was still buried in his flesh. Bolg couldn’t move and Tauriel decapitated him. Everything Kíli remembered after this was a painful blur and drowning in black. When he had woken up again he had only heard one sentence: We have won.  
But when he looked at his brother now who catatonically stared into the nothing, it didn’t feel like a victory. He put his hand on Fíli’s arm carefully. The blonde dwarf stiffed a little but didn’t turn away. He was shaking as though he was freezing.  
“Brother” Kíli said softly. “Talk to me.”  
“Everybody speaks of us winning.” He murmured. “Nobody mentions what we have lost.”  
Kíli didn’t know how to respond to that so he simply rubbed his brother’s back in soothing circles.  
“Uncle has to wake up. He just has to.” Fíli’s voice was rough. “I can’t do all this. How am I supposed to rule a kingdom if I am afraid to sleep at night? “  
Kíli knew, what he meant. Both of them had been allowed to leave the infirmary two days ago and that was when it had started: the nightmares.  
Kíli had woken up in the middle of the night, soaked on sweat. His heart had been racing and his arm had searched for his bow on its own accord. Before his inner eye he had seen it – how the battle would have turned out if they hadn’t had such an enormous amount of luck. Fíli’s body had been laying smashed at his feet, the blue eyes empty. Thorin had been laying a few feet behind him and Bilbo next to him. The hobbit had still been alive and had coughed blood out of his lungs in which he was drowning. His accusing eyes hadn’t left Kíli. You are alive and the others aren’t, they seemed to say. Do you think, that is fair? In that exact moment, when Bilbo died and Azog was about to kill Kíli off too, he had woken up. His long hair had been sticking to his neck and his racing breathing had made his wound burn like fire. Just as he had though he would have to puke he had heard a scream from the room next door.  
“Fíli!” Without hesitation he had stormed into the room of his brother and had found him as a quivering mess on the floor. He had pulled the wriggling dwarf in his arms immediately and had whispered calming words in his ear.  
Óin had been in the door a second later but turned away silently and with grief written all over his face. For this sickness he knew no cure but time.  
Fíli and Kíli had started to sleep in the same room again after that night. The presence of the other calmed them and offered comfort. It remembered them that no matter how horrible their dreams were, they were only that: dreams.  
“I am sorry.” Fíli suddenly said and looked even more pitiful than before. “Kíli, I am so, so sorry.”  
“What do you mean?” the brunet asked at watched utterly shocked how tears gathered in his brother’s eyes.  
“I am sorry, that I am so weak.” He turned his head towards Kíli but kept his eyes down. “I should be the one to take care of you. I should hold you during the nights so you’re able to sleep, not the other way around.”  
Kíli was thunderstruck. Did his brother really think like that? “Fíli, stop! You’re talking as though I am one of the warriors of old times! I need you, brother! I need you so bad!” How could he make him understand? “You are keeping me alive! More than anything else! You are strong and you are helping me in every way that is possible for you! What should I do without you? What should we all do without you?”  
“Strong?” Fíli laughed a bitter laugh. “Where am I strong?”  
“You showed Thránduil his limits today.” A smile appeared on Kíli’s face. “That way quite impressive, you know?”  
“I wouldn’t have been able to without the help of Dáin.” Fíli murmured. “Those Mahâl-forsaken elves.”  
“Damn right!” his brother agreed although the thought of a certain she-elf stung in his heart. Fíli pulled him in a tight hug. “Thank you, nadadith.” He whispered. Kíli pressed their foreheads together. “Dinner should be ready any minute now. Let’s go before Bilbo and Bombur don’t even leave crumbs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nadadith = little brother


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I don't know why but half of this chapter is just left out so I am going to seperate it.... Weird....

Eight

Bilbo

Bilbo wasn’t at dinner. It was a shame really, because since Bombur had the opportunity to use a functioning kitchen he was preforming real miracles considering food. And he as a Hobbit could judge. But no, Bilbo of course couldn’t enjoy a peaceful meal with his friends – at least how peaceful it could be with 12 dwarfs. And why was Bilbo Baggins, a perfectly normal Hobbit, missing about five of his well earned – and really deserved, dammit! – meals? It was of course the fault of a certain stubborn dwarf: Thorin just refused to wake up. How should anybody under this mountain find even something close to peace when their friend, king and uncle just didn’t want to gain back consciousness? Bilbo was muttering under his breath as he walked through the gallery of kings and turned right at the next stairs. Four floors above him were the royal chambers. The original infirmary was too damaged as they could have treated the wounded there so they brought Thorin into that part of the mountain that was still intact.  
Smaug would have thrown a tantrum if he had known that he had failed at destroying the actual home of the royal family, Bilbo thought. The dragon had hated the dwarfs. He had made his point clear when he was consuming most of them as a little snack. It caused some kind of grimly satisfaction in the pacifistic Hobbit to know that Smaug hadn’t succeeded in destroying the palace inside the mountain entirely. As Bilbo set food on the endless floor he still felt the ghost of the former proud dwarf-kingdom. The grace and strength of Erebor had endured. That was the real power of Durin’s blood.  
He stopped in front of a massive door made of ebony. It was decorated with really complicated cravings. No matter how often he had passed the threshold by now, it just wasn’t getting easier. He tried to brace himself against the scene that was awaiting him inside and entered.  
Although there were no windows in the room it was very light and it seemed as though sun light had found it’s way in. When Bilbo had seen this for the first time he had turned to Bofur, utterly confused. “It is as light as day in here. How can that be?” The mine worker had just grinned at him. “Oh, our little, innocent master burglar” He had mocked. “Knows so few about the wide, wide world.” As Bilbo had snorted in a rather offended way the dwarf had only laughed and gotten on his toes feeling on the ledge that went around the walls. With a “Ah, got it!” he had pulled his hand back down and presented it to Bilbo. “Kunzek birzul” He had said in Khuzdûl.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is the second part of the chapter.... Dunno what's wrong.... One sentence is missing at the beginning of the chapter: That means >golden stone

We have been using them for ages. These gems consist of a special mineral that will observe the sun light when exposed to it. Lay them out in nice weather for a day and you will have nice, comfy light for about three months.”  
Bilbo had been fascinated and every time when he entered the room a tight knot in his chest seemed to loosen a bit. As beautiful as Erebor was, Hobbits weren’t made for living without seeing the sun in weeks. Bus as much as he enjoyed the light, he still hated this room. He turned and headed for the bed at his left. With every step he took the knot began to tighten again.  
The bruises had started to change their colour from black and purple to yellow and green and Bilbo had sworn that the swelling of his eye had become smaller. There was slough over his scratches grazes and somebody had washed the blood out of his thick raven-hair that had oozed out of his head wound. These were all signs of a healing process, weren’t they? But still…  
“Hello, Bifur“ he greeted the dwarf that was guarding Thorin’s bed. He received a nod.  
“He hasn’t moved, has he? Maybe a crooked finger or twitching eye?“  
Shaking of a head. Bilbo bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying a not very respectful curse. As he went to stand next to Bifur the dwarf raised an eyebrow at him and gestured towards his tummy. Now it was Bilbo’s turn to shake his head. “ I am not hungry.”  
Bifur wrinkled his forehead and showed the Hobbit three of his fingers. In addition he said something in Khuzdûl. Bilbo sighted. “I am sorry, but I do not understand you.” He added murmuring “As you very well know.”  
“He says that you have to take better care of yourself.”  
Bilbo turned around and saw Glóin standing in the door frame, in his hands a bowl with hot stew. “How often to Hobbits eat usually?” He asked in a sarcastic voice and acted as if he had to think hard. “I somehow have the feeling that there was a certain Hobbit who never failed to remind us of this during every single day of our journey. Let’s see… Breakfast, Second Breakfast, Elevenses, Luncheon, Afternoon Tea, Dinner and Supper… Makes seven, doesn’t it?” Roughly he shoved the bowl in Bilbo’s hands. “Seven meals in three days makes twenty-one. You should have eatn twenty-one meals. And how many did you have? Five? If this much already.“  
Bilbo was silent. The red-haired dwarf sighted. “Dammit, Halfling, we are concerned about you.”  
At this Bilbo nearly dropped the stew. “About me? You are concerned about ME? You have something better to do, haven’t you?!“ H suddenly thought he was hearing a heavy breathing and blamed Bifur. Without letting the other Dwarf answer he continuing yelling at Glóin: “Your king lies here, dying, and you worry about the fact that I am not stuffing my stomach with food that we don’t even have enough of!” The breathing continued. When Bifur didn’t want to intervene then he could shut the hell up! “I just don’t get you Dwarves!” Bilbo continued breathless. “ How can you just ignore as if nothing had happened? How can you laugh and eat and drink and just forget about this horrible war? The only ones that actually behave like sane beings are Fíli and Kíli and you just abandon them to deal with their demons on their own! Who was there when Fíli had awaken from a nightmare and was about to attack his brother because he didn’t know where he was? And who helped Fíli when Kíli had rolled together on his bed and had cried for Thorin or his mother? Me! It was all me, I took care of them! Those two are traumatized and the bunch of you ignores it!” The panting had turned into a whimper that was barely audible and Glóin had gone very pale. “Bilbo…” he said weakly.  
“No!” The Hobbit interrupted him. “No, you are going to listen to me! I just can’t believe how loyal you are to your leaders but at the same time you are so blind to the suffering directly in front of you…“  
“Bilbo” Glóin tried again, this time urging.  
“You are not made of stone, are you? I can’t take this, maybe I should head back into the Shire…”  
“Silence!”/!Itkit!“ Glóin and Bifur bellowed at the same time. When Bilbo shot furious looks towards them they only pointed behind him. The Hobbit turned around and his heart stopped:  
Movement.  
Thorin moved.


	10. Chapter 10

Nine

Bilbo

 

Bilbo was about to throw his arms up in joy as heard the whining. Thorin had pressed his jaws together but fearful sounds managed to escape his closed lips. Sweat was glistering on his damp forehead and his face was constantly twisting. “T…Thorin?” Bilbo whispered in shock.  
At that the dwarf lord threw his head to the side and made a noise which sounded like a mixture of a scream and a growl. The blanket fell to the floor and bared his hands which were clenched into tight fists. His fingernails were digging into his palms. Then suddenly he leapt up and let loose an deafening scream as he started to toss around violently. His arms were flying around him in an attempt to protect himself from the demons that were haunting him. His legs were kicking after invisible enemies.  
A command shouted in Khuzdûl made Bilbo jolt out of his freeze. He was looking up just in time to see Bifur and Glóin sprint towards Thorin and tried to hold him down. As the king now felt the resistance he moaned in fear and struggled even harder.  
Bilbo felt as if he was trapped inside a nightmare as he heard the sounds, his friend made. Not even when he had fought in the Battle of the Five Armies he had shown any sign of fear. What was he enduring now? Glóin’s stressed voice drifted over to the hobbit: “Get Óin!”  
“B…But I…” he stammered but at the same moment he saw the blood dribbling from Thorin’s lips.  
“Khidu!”  
He didn’t need a translation for that. Turning on the heel Bilbo darted out of the room. Just as quick as he had made his way to Ravenhill to warn Thorin from the approaching Orcs he now raced through the stone halls of the kingdom under the mountain. Taking three steps at a time he jumped down the stairs that didn’t seem to end at all and busted into the kitchen where everybody was having dinner. As he nearly crashed into the table because he wasn’t able to stop properly, Dwalin had already drawn his sword out, spying for potential foes chasing the hobbit. “What’s up?”  
Bilbo had his hands on his knees and tried to satisfy his lungs’ screams for oxygen. “…need Óin.” He panted. “He…quick…Thorin…”  
Immediately the old healer jumped to his feed and sprinted in a pace that would have made elves go pale towards the royal chambers, Fíli and Kíli on his heels.


	11. Chapter 11

Eleven

Thorin

 

The darkness was a blessing. He didn’t have to think while being inside her, not to see, not to feel. He could just endure in the calmness that was covering his mind like a cosy blanket. Somewehre in his head a voice started whispering sometimes saying that something was wrong – that he had to wake up. Why do I have to wake up? He wondered lazily. I am not asleep. I am existing in the darkness. She is my friend.  
Those were also the moments when he felt a stinging inside his chest. Something had gone terribly wrong. And it had been his fault, the annoying voice continued.  
No, Thorin stubbornly insisted. I didn’t do anything. I am here. I am alone in the dark.  
Time had lost all its meaning. It was just constantly flowing by without him knowing if one minute had just passed, one hour or even days. It was not important. Thorin was just recovering and enjoyed the absence of responsibilities. But did he ever have responsibilities? Yes, he remembered that there as a time when his shoulders had been crushed by the weight that they had to carry. What had it been? What had defined his life for decades? Always when Thorin tried to remember, the fog in his head became thicker and the darkness held him tighter. Just let it go, she whispered. It is over. Why worry about the past? Just sleep.   
And that Thorin did. Slowly a laziness began to overtake his thoughts and the memories became blurry. He even nearly forgot his own name.  
But suddenly something changed. He did hear something. At first he didn’t know where to put the strange sensing and backed off, scared, but something forced him to listen. He couldn’t really understand anything but the sound of the voice seemed to be known to him. A wave of golden hair appeared in front of him and he heard the laughing of happy children. Out of reflex he wanted to grab that memory but the fog in his head built a solid wall. There was only a letter:  
F  
Thorin tried to figure out what that meant but the darkness forcefully pulled him back into her smothering embrace. Don’t worry. Just let it go.  
But Thorin didn’t want to let it go. The voice had sounded sad – desperate. He didn’t know why but he didn’t want the voice to sound sad. It should be happy and unburdened. He also came to the conclusion that it was his task to ensure the happiness of the voice with the golden hair. Did he fail? Whom had he disappointed? The letter F was present in his past and present, he knew that. But who was it? Who needed Thorin’s help?  
And while he was trying with all his strength not to drown in the darkness again, he heard something else. Another voice spoke and he understood the words:  
Are…worried  
Worried? Who was worried? Thorin hated worries. They made him have a stomach ache.   
All of the sudden the blond hair reappeared. Yes, he was constantly worrying about a dwarf with blond hair. He was nearly able to say his name but again he ran against the wall in his mind.  
Dying  
Without any warning blinding fury and grief shot through every fibre of Thorin’s body. Hair like gold, happy laughter, worries, death, the letter F –   
Frerin  
His little brother. How could he have forgotten about his golden, precious baby brother? His laughter had brighten up the darkest of hours in Thorin’s life. His eyes were burning. Frerin wasn’t with him anymore. But why? Why had his brother, his sun left him to suffer alone in the dark void? Thorin whimpered – his head hurt.   
Food that we don’t even have enough of…  
His duties. Thorin had duties! He couldn’t keep sleeping when he had to take care of his people. But…why? Why were they short on food? Why were the sick and weak starving? There was plenty of food in their mountain after all.   
The mountain… something had happened to it. Thorin tangled his fingers into his hair. What was happening? Why couldn’t he remember? He had to try!  
War  
With a supressed scream Thorin tried to open his eyes to escape the pictures that were shooting towards him. Fire and death everywhere. Screaming and crying and the blind escape from the overwhelming foe. He had come. They had always feared him and now he had arrived.  
Smaug  
Thorin gagged as the smell of burning flesh reached his nose. The dragon had taken their home. He had killed beyond count. Thorin saw it as clear as day: The Panic and the burning mountain that had shone for miles. But nobody from his family had died on that day, had they? He remembered tears that had been cried by… his younger sister? Yeah, she had lost somebody though Thorin couldn’t see whom. His own pain was too big because during the next battle his world had come to pieces – again. His grandfather and brother had both died. Thorin howled like a wounded animal as the picture of their shattered bodies forced it’s way into his mind. He wanted to forget again. He wanted the darkness back.  
Fíli and Kíli…  
With a dull sound Thorin loosened his grip of his hair a bit. Those named seemed to calm the raging storm inside him. Just as if he was used to them bringing something good. And of course they did, always. His two wonderful nephews – his light and joy in this cruel world. Fíli, the exact doppelganger of Frerin with his blond hair and the blue eyes. And Kíli, whose hair was just as dark as Thorin’s, Dís’, Thrór’s and Thráin’s but whom had the dark eyes of his father that were always sparkling in mischief. Yes, they were the reason why Thorin had gotten out of bed for years and years to come. As long as he had Fíli and Kíli, everything would be fine.  
You just abandon them…  
What was the voice saying? Was it talking about his nephews? That couldn’t be! For as long as they lived, Thorin had always made sure that they were well. He would have never left them, their feelings came always first! He would have never made them miserable!  
Traumatized…  
No way… Not the most precious things in his life…  
Ignores it…  
I am not ignoring it, Thorin wanted to shout but he could only manage some indefinable sounds. He could never cause his family any harm! The voice had no right to speak of him like that! He had always wished he best for all of them. And he had never done something differently!  
And that was when it happened: Thorin remembered everything. His encounter with Gandalf, the discovery of the hidden door, the journey with the company towards Erebor, the battle against Smaug and also their master burglar, Bilbo Baggins. Up to the moment when Smaug took of heading for Lake Town everything was crystal clear and then it turned into a blurry and scaring chaos. There were fragments like an acorn in Bilbo’s hand or Dwalin’s wet eyes as he told him that he was a smaller man than he had ever been. The rest was a nearly painful want to possess it, to bathe in its light and to cry about its beauty – Thorin remembered the Arkenstone. And that was the moment when Thorin screamed at the top of his lungs. He never wanted to feel like that again. He had nearly killed Bilbo, had abandoned Kíli and threatened Dwalin to kill him.  
Maybe I should go…  
Everything was turning. Thorin didn’t know where up and down was. His thoughts were a tangled, panic-stricken mess. Childhood memories where mixing with recent events. Stories became facts and facts became stories. Everything was too much. What was real, what was happening, what year was it? Why did he hurt all over? It hurt, hurt so bad…  
He felt hands grabbing him.  
They are back, he thought. They got me. They will take everything away from me. I will lose everything – again. And nobody is here, nobody can help me. I don’t want this. Nonononono….  
He fought with all his strength against the aggressors. He body was heavy and it hurt. His muscles were spasming and something warm and liquid was around him. Thorin screamed as the hands were holding him tighter and a heavy weight was coming down on his torso and legs. He was captured. Somewhere in his mind he realised the heavy panting and the wetness on his face. Then the weight was lifted of him and something held his arms and legs. He couldn’t move, was helpless. Thorin was scared but his strength had faded. He couldn’t do anything. His eyes were still closed. “Please don’t.” he whimpered silently. Where were his friends? Where was his family? “Help.” His voice was a mere whisper when the darkness rose again. He didn’t want it to. He didn’t want to be alone again. When the void was about to swallow him again he suddenly felt a hand in his own. A second one lay on his cheek.  
“Uncle, it’s alright.” He heard a shaky voice say.  
“We are here with you.” A second one added hoarsely. “We won’t leave you alone.”  
His light and joy. They were with him. A knot seemed to come loose in his chest and he could breathe again. The darkness was still there but he wasn’t alone anymore. His family was there. “Fíli” he murmured. “Kíli…”


	12. Chapter 12

Eleven

Fíli

They could already hear the screams from the hall. Fíli thought it would tear his heart apart. He had wished for days that Thorin would wake up but he hadn’t wanted it to be like this. When he burst into the room, right at the heels of Óin, he was close to immediately covering his ears – that much the screams of his uncle disturbed him. There were no clear words; it resembled the howling of a hurt and trapped animal.  
He felt Kíli shivering beside him. He shot him a look from the corner of his eye and saw that his brother was deadly pale. Without thinking about it Fíli took his hand and squeezed it once. Kíli answered in the same way without letting his eyes leave the sweating body of Thorin. Glóin was lying across his chest holding his arms whereas Bifur pinned his legs down. Both were obviously struggling to keep him still since Thorin was fighting against them with all his strength. But it was important that he would lay still. Lord Elrond had said that Thorin wouldn’t be able to move properly in days! Fíli didn’t even dare to think of the damage his uncle was causing himself at this very moment. But what could he do to help? He wasn’t as strong as the older dwarfs and he didn’t know anything about healing. What could he do for Thorin? How could he keep his uncle from hurting himself?  
“Out of the way, boy!” a deep voice growled behind him and he was pushed aside. His eyes widened as he saw Dwalin rushing past him and straight up to Thorin’s bed. “Down, you fools!” He barked. “You are hurting him!”  
“But he…”  
“Now!” Dwalin’s tone killed every resistance. Carefully Glóin and Bifur climbed of their king who started immediately to thrash around even more violently. “You see?” Glóin snarled already on his way back to Thorin but Dwalin shot him a warning look that made the ginger-haired dwarf freeze on point. Without another word Dwalin climbed into the bed and grabbed his arms from behind. His own legs he winded around Thorin’s. Like this he used his own body as a trap to immobilize his friend. Thorin quickly started to stop fighting Dwalin and Fíli got why: Dwalin was avoiding contact with any of Thorin’s serious wounds so that his fear wouldn’t be fueled by even more pain.  
They had been through this before.  
Dwalin nodded towards Óin and immediately the old healer rushed to Thorin’s side. When he started to examine his injuries he cursed. “At least three wounds have opened up again.” He murmured. “We have to clean them immediately – He mustn’t get any infections! “  
“Óin” Dwalin said urgently. “He is hot.”  
The old dwarf laughed bitterly. “Of course he is hot! His fever rose because of this attack.” He eyes flashed over to Fíli. “He again is in serious danger.”  
Fíli felt his throat tighten and Kíli sobbed beside him.  
“Okay, thank you very much, but I have had enough!” Bilbo’s voice was husky but firm. “I don’t care what you lot think of it but I am going to get Lord Elrond. What we need is a wonder and in my experience that is the business elves are best in!” He turned on the heel and ran down the long floor. The fact that no dwarf protested showed how desperate the situation was. Without any warning Thorin suddenly started to mumble: “Please don’t.” His voice sounded broken. “Help.”  
“He’s hallucinating.” Óin stated rationally. “He doesn’t know where he is and why he is in pain. He needs something known to him.” He waved Fíli and Kíli over. “Do you remember when Thorin had caught pneumonia because he had escorted merchants out of the Ered Luin?  
Fíli nodded. How could he possibly forget about that? Thorin had lain in bed with a high fever and injuries - Every breath had been a fight for life or death. Only because some traders from the East had brought the King’s Foil Óin had been able to save him. But what was Óin aiming at? Oh, of course! Thorin had bad fever dreams of Smaug’s attack and the battle of Khazad-Dûm. He had cried and tossed around in bed and hadn’t known where he was – just like now. Fíli and Kíli had started to sleep by his side. Only the presence of his nephews had calmed Thorin. Fíli shot Kíli a look. He nodded and carefully the two of them strolled over to Thorin’s bed side. Fíli looked at the pain-twisted face of his uncle, and then he slowly opened Thorin’s hand and placed his own in his sweaty palm. “Uncle, everything is alright.” He said with a lump in his throat. Kíli stood next to him. He placed his hand on Thorin’s wet cheek. “We are here. We are not going to leave you.”  
Briefly they saw irritation flash over Thorin’s features but then they straightened. He relaxed ever so slightly in Dwalin’s grip who sighted relieved. Thorin’s eyes were twitching as though he wanted to open them but wasn’t able to. “Fíli” he murmured. “Kíli…”  
“Yes, uncle.” They said together. “We are here.” When Thorin’s mouth turned into the lightest of smiles Fíli felt his eyes well up. Was it over now?


	13. Chapter 13

Twelve

Dwalin

Loud voices coming from outside the room announced Bilbo’s and Lord Elrond’s arrival. With a flying robe he came rushed into the chamber. “What happened?” he demanded to know while he joined Óin.  
“He woke up.” Fíli said.  
“Or something similar.” Added Kíli while he soothingly stroked Thorin’s cheek who had started to whimper once again. For a brief moment he had been with them but that was over now. The king was captured in his head one more time.  
Lord Elrond examined professionally the wounds before he turned to Dwalin wearing a serious expression. “Hold him down.”  
“What do you think, I am trying here, elf!” The dwarf grunted. Damn tree-shagger! What was he doing here anyway?   
“Stronger” came the answer when he placed his hands on Thorin’s forehead. Immediately the dark-haired dwarf started screaming and tried to escape Dwalin’s grip. The warrior clenched his teeth. “It’s alright, Thorin.” He panted. What the hell was the damn greens-eater doing?   
The king calmed down a bit when he heard the familiar voice. “Dwalin?” he whimpered in a painful whisper. “Where are you? And where are Fíli and Kíli?”  
“We are here, uncle.” Fíli repeated and pressed Thorin’s fingers. “We’re all here with you.”  
When Thorin screamed again Bilbo joined them, worry written all over his face. “Lord Elrond, what are you doing there?” he asked scared.   
“He has got internal bleedings.” The elf replied. “Plus an infection is about to spread. That is what causes the high fever. It surely has already been growing for days.” He turned to Bifur and Glóin. “Sent for the Woodland-elves immediately. Thránduil shall send me his best healers as soon as possible. And herbs, my stock is limited.” As they didn’t move the normally clam and diplomatic elf growled: “Now! Otherwise the blood of your king is on your hands!” The two of them left the room but didn’t fail to express their doubts.  
Thorin’s whimpers of pain hadn’t stopped. Lord Elrond had sweat in his forehead. He had closed his eyes to concentrate and was murmuring in Sindarin. “Talk to him!” he suddenly said sharply in the common tongue. “Calm him, distract him. That is easing his pain and my work.”  
Dwalin nodded once and bent down to Thorin but before he could say something, Thorin started speaking himself: ”They got me.” He murmured. “They got me.“ His body tensed. “Please, stop.”  
Orcs, Dwalin thought. He thinks he got caught The warrior swallowed hard as he understood. Just as then. He closed his eyes for a moment. This cursed fever! It brought back everything! All of that happened such a long time ago! Dwalin forced the shaking out of his voice when he started to speak. He had to be strong for his king. “Thorin, everything is alright.” He whispered.  
“Dwalin” Thorin replied. “Dwalin – Brother… Help me.”  
Oh, Mahâl! He had to be far gone. Thorin hadn’t called him that since Frerin had died.  
“Dwalin” He lifted his eyes and saw that Kíli was looking at him. His long hair was like a curtain before his face and he was as pale as the warriors had never seen him. “What is uncle talking about?”  
The heir looked just as confused as his brother and Bilbo was just so pale that Dwalin thought that his sympathy for Thorin made him endure the same pain as him. When Dwalin was about to answer his eyes fell on Elrond’s bloody hands and Óin’s stressed face. He felt the heat radiating from his king. So Dwalin made a decision. Explanations were not important at the moment, they could follow later. So he bent down and ignoring everything and everybody else he pressed his forehead to Thorin’s. He felt the wetness of sweat. Thorin was trying to get away from him but Dwain kept an iron like grip on him. “Thorin” he said steadily. “Thorin, I want you to listen to me.” Thorin didn’t seem to react but Dwalin felt his shoulders relax ever so slightly. “Thorin, you gotta listen to me.” The dwarf repeated. “Can you do that for me?”  
“Dwalin, help me.” Thorin whimpered. “I can’t see. It hurts. “His breath sped up. “They are back. They got me.”  
“None of these filthy rats has lain a finger on you.” The tattooed dwarf reassured him grimly. “I would never let them get near you again.”  
“I want it to stop. I can’t keep going.” Thorin’s voice became weaker. „I can’t…“  
“He has to stay awake at any cost!” Elrond sounded incredibly stressed. “If he passes out now, there is nothing I can do anymore!”  
Dwalin shook Thorin softly, ignoring the lighter wounds. “Oh, yes, Thorin, you can! Stop being an egoist!”  
“An egoist?” Thorin frowned.  
“Oh yes, a ridiculously big egoist!” Dwalin had to suppress a weak grin when he heard Bilbo’s voice. Thorin reacted immediately. His jaw unclenched and his eyes tried to open up. “Bilbo?” He mumbled.  
“Of course, you stubborn dwarf! Who else?”  
“Where are you?” The voice of the king had become stronger although his face was still twisted in pain.  
“At your side, exactly where you need me. Aluë knows where you would be without me.”  
“I can’t see.” Thorin complained again. Dwalin couldn’t blame him. It would have been better for his kjing not to wake up. Now he was only half-conscious and caught in fever dreams. Without orientation in the darkness – there, where Dwalin couldn’t help him. The warrior felt helpless. He should protect Thorin, even against his own demons!  
Keep fighting! You are stronger than this!  
And Dwalin kept pressing his forehead against Thorin’s glowing skull. He could only show him that he would be with him. No matter what.


	14. Chapter 14

Thirteen

Bilbo

“You’re staying awake now, Thorin Oakenshield, you hear me?” Bilbo was entirely done with this drama. With all those dwarves around you, you didn’t have one quiet moment for yourself!  
“Hard” Thorin panted. “Exhausting…”  
The hobbit thought that it was a good sign that the dwarf had reacted to him and wasn’t murmuring nonsense under his breath anymore. “I tell what is exhausting.” He continued forcefully. “Being stuck for one year with a bunch of dwarves! They are such a messy lot! And they’re manners – if you can even speak of manners in their case. And I tell you what, their leader is the worst. Always brooding and frowning and – oh, don’t you dare cast me that look, Fíli! You know that I am right!” In fact Fíli’s eyes had never left his uncle’s face but the words caused the right reaction from Thorin. “They are still here?” he asked weakly. Fíli wanted to answer but Bilbo gave him a wave and he stayed silent. “Why don’t you find out yourself?”   
“I can’t.“ he stammered. “Everything is black.” His breathing became harder. “Where…?“  
“Hush now, Thorin.” Bilbo murmured. “We are all here with you. You are not alone.” And with that he gave Fíli a sign to again squeeze Thorin’s hand. He was waiting impatiently a few moments before Thorin repeated the gesture. Fíli smiled and his eyes were suspiciously light.   
At that moment new arrivers entered Thorin’s chambers. A whole delegation of Woodland-Elves had come as quick as possible, among them Tauriel, Legolas and the king himself.  
“So, what is this all about?”  
When Thorin heard the voice of the elf his face twisted into a disgusted grimace. Just like a dog who had smelled a cat, Bilbo thought. With a glimpse at Thránduil he added: A quite arrogant cat. One like Lobelia Sackville-Baggins could own.  
Thránduil ignored every single one of the dwarves and walked straight up to Lord Elrond. The two of them started to talk in quick Sindarin. Bilbo was close to being impressed that Thránduil’s back wasn’t aflame with all the burning eyes that pierced it. Only Kíli’s eyes were wandering off to Tauriel from time to time when she wasn’t looking. And the other way around. Oh, Valar - Those two would cause problems that much was sure.  
“Tauriel, tog losta!”  
She bowed down respectfully. “Sûl, Aran.” Then she got a small bottle out of one of her pockets and held it under Thorin’s nose, unimpressed by Dwalin’s murderous stare. The dwarven king inhaled deeply and his body fell limb immediately.   
“What was that?” Bilbo asked shocked. Legolas stepped to his side. “There is no reason to be worried, Master Baggins. That was only a powder that we gain out of mushrooms. The dwarf is sleeping – very deeply. He will feel nothing for the next few hours and that will ease the work of my father and Lord Elrond extreamly.” The Elven-Prince smiled warmly at him. “We have no intention to harm you.”   
“I wish I could promise you the same.” Bilbo murmured and pinned Glóin down with a stern stare who had made attempts to come over and pull Legolas away from him.  
“You let him sleep?” Óin asked whose professional curiosity had overcome his mistrust against elves at the moment. “Isn’t that too risky? Maybe he is not awaking again.”  
“If it would be a normal sleep you would be entirely right, Master Óin.” Legolas answered friendly and only a little bit colder than when he had spoken with Bilbo. “But this should be called an artificial coma instead. He is not in pain anymore and it helps with the healing process.”  
“Mahâl help us when Dís gets to know about this.” Dwalin murmured and actually looked scared.  
“She would get here as soon as possible, wouldn’t she?” Kíli was pale. “We are so done for. And when uncle wakes up, she will kill him. “He swallowed thickly. “Literally.”  
“Dís?” Bilbo asked confused. Ha had never heard that name. “Who is Dís?”  
“Thorin’s sister” Glóin answered.  
“Our mother” added Fíli.  
“The only one in the line of Durin with a sane mind.” Balin had been entered the room, wearing a warm smile. He was the only one of them who actually seemed relaxed. He waved them to his side. “Come, you lot. Let our guests do their work.”  
Legolas bowed his head. “Thank you, Master Balin.”  
“Oh, no problem at all, laddie.” He grinned as Glóin and Bifur passed him who still looked as they would prefer to murder the elves instead. “I am aware of the fact that some of my kin can be difficult to deal with.” He cast a look at Dwalin. “Especially my little brother here.” Said brother glanced angrily at him but didn’t move. “Dwalin” Balin said, more impatiently.  
“I won’t leave him alone with elves when he isn’t able to defend himself.” Was the truculent answer.  
“I assure you, your king will be caused no harm.” Tauriel said patiently. Dwalin snorted. “No, of course, I am sure you only want to cause harm to one dwarf around here.” Both, Kíli’s and Tauriel’s faces were aflame at those words.  
Luckily Balin was sensitive enough to drag the attention away from them. “Dwalin, Son of Fundin! You are getting up immediately or I will tell every single dwarf that will arrive here that I found you lying on your back in the king’s bed!”  
Now it was Dwalin’s turn to turn scarlet red. “You wouldn’t do that! That is not what this is and you know that!”  
“Of course I do.” He winked. “But the incomers don’t, do they?”  
When Dwalin carefully climbed out of the bed and cast his brother a devastating look as he left, Bilbo was relieved. In contrary to (most) dwarves he trusted the elves. If somebody could save Thorin, then them. That was why he was really happy that Balin was supporting them, although dwarves happened to use weird methods to achieve their goals. On the other hand, Bilbo really couldn’t think of another way how they could have gotten Dwalin to leave the side of his brother in arms.  
Bilbo was about to leave the room wafer Fíli and Kíli when he thought that he should probably ask Óin to join them but then he saw that the healer was in the middle of an excited discussion with Legolas. You could see how interested the old dwarf was in the healing ways of the elves, so Bilbo decided not to interrupt them. Óin wouldn’t disturb Thránduil and Lord Elrond and if he was able to learn something from the elves, it would help all of them in the end.


End file.
